


The Merits of Being Me.

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-02
Updated: 2007-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Life as a female Auror hasn’t been a bed of roses for young Miss Granger. Neither is being in love with Ron Weasley. Hermione narrates a year in her life as she juggles her sometimes bizarre job responsibilities while trying to maintain a long distance relationship with a man who is chasing his own dreams.Featuring: Insightful Luna, Intoxicated Parvati, Charming Ron.





	The Merits of Being Me.

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Thank you to Audrey aka Auds for editing this tale. Thank You for reading. Please review.  


* * *

 

**Meeting With Ron**

(Spring)

 

My father always told me not to strut when I walk. He said that when walking, I should be graceful like a lady. My mother, on the other hand, told me that when in doubt, _Shake what your mama gave you!_

 

Decisions, decisions. 

 

How should I react, walking out of the office the day after closing my first big case? I didn't really think about what I was doing when I skipped down the stairs and onto the pavement. It was only 11.30 in the morning, and I had the rest of the day off. There were surprisingly few clouds in the sky today and I thought to myself, _Perhaps I'll drop by Aunt Bonnie's house and have some lunch._

 

I had taken a few steps when I saw a familiar shape leaning against a newspaper box. I hurried over and prepared to yank down the newspaper he was using to cover his face. He wasn't really reading it anyways.

 

Well, actually he was. And it wasn't who I thought it was.

 

"Sorry! Sorry! I thought you were someone else."

 

I backed off, mortified, having basically torn the paper out of his hands. I was ready to throw myself at him, lock my lips on his and push him back onto the newspaper box. I wanted to passionately snog the man of my dreams right here and now in the middle of Birmingham. 

 

But alas, it wasn't Ron, it was some bloke who now was eyeing me suspiciously as I walked away.

 

I was about to cross the street and go into the café where I always bought a croissant when I heard a familiar strain of laughter. The bugger had been sitting there watching me the whole time.

 

"You could have said something," I complained, turning toward him.

 

"Why? I like it when you look so decisive. You're a real woman of action now aren't you?"

 

"Get over here!" I stepped over to him sitting on the concrete flower bed. He was wearing a dark green jacket and a pair of jeans that I had never seen before. 

 

"Hermione." He whispered as we kissed briefly and embraced. "Back in her home town."

 

"Not quite," I corrected him. "My parents' home town."

 

We sat down on the edge of the flower bed.

 

"Did you know that there are more canals in Birmingham than there are in Venice?"

 

I looked at him with slight disbelief. He had remembered!

 

"I remembered when I told you that before how you scoffed."

 

"I didn't scoff!" He pulled his hand away from mine. "I guess I just didn't appreciate the importance of that piece of general knowledge as much as I should have."

 

I just enjoyed sitting with him; I didn't care that it was in the middle of a busy street, in a city that was not as familiar as I liked to believe. I didn't care that he was wearing that cologne that makes me sneeze, or that he hadn't shaved in a day or so. None of that mattered, except that I enjoy being with him so much.

 

"How's work?"

 

I hesitated before answering. It's a habit I picked up in the business; somehow I found myself always wanting to gather my thoughts before talking, which is tough for me when I'm around him. Because when I'm with him I just want to talk and tell him everything. I want to pour my heart out to him, all day, every day. 

 

"It's alright. It has its good days and bad."

 

"From the way you came strutting out of that building, I'm guessing today is a good day."

 

I grinned and looked away.

 

"Shake what your mama gave you. Isn't that what she said?"

 

I guffawed at the sound of the words coming out from his mouth. 

 

"That was some party your parents threw. I'm glad you invited me."

 

"Why wouldn't I invite you?" I looked at him puzzled. "We were dating after all?"

 

"You didn't invite Harry though."

 

"Harry didn't need to come."

 

I put on my biggest smile and hoped that it didn't look too goofy or silly. 

 

"Parvati told me you are working on a big case right now."

 

"She told you that?" I stopped smiling. "She shouldn't have."

 

Ron got defensive instantly. 

 

"Hey, it's not like she told me anything important. She just said that you have been keeping busy, that's all."

 

"Keeping busy?" I didn't like what that implied. "Of course I've been busy! I'm an Auror and a team leader at that!"

 

He visibly exhaled and closed his eyes briefly. 

 

"Yeah, I know," he said softly. "So everyone's been safe then? Luna?"

 

I measured my tone because I didn't want to snap at him again. 

 

"Luna is doing great. Who would have thought, eh?"

 

"I always had faith in Luna."

 

I glared at him in what I thought was a very convincing, _I don't believe a word of that_ fashion.

 

We sat there laughing and joking for some time more, until I decided I wanted to taste his lips a bit more. So I leaned in and caught him off guard.

 

"Wait."

 

But I didn't wait, and I did it again quickly and with pinpoint precession. He wouldn't be able to tell that I had been practicing it in my dreams since forever.

 

"Wait Hermione, stop. Let's not get started."

 

Reality crushed this little romantic vignette and I suddenly felt quite ill. 

 

"You're right," I agreed as I pulled myself away. "You're right, Ron."

 

"I don't think," he paused as he got up and smoothed his jacket out. "That we should get too comfortable like that."

 

"Not when we have so many other things..."

 

"Yup." 

 

I decided to crack a joke; I really hoped it would go over well.

 

"I mean after all," I began as I looked up at him. "What would Ginny think about us?"

 

It worked! Ron started chuckling, then moved on to full scale laughter.

 

"I don't think she would appreciate you laughing at her either."

 

"No!" Ron stopped to wipe the spittle that had formed on the side of his lips. "She wouldn't like it at all."

 

For you see, Ginny Weasley had recently adopted the virtue of chastity and held it very close to her heart; since she wasn't married to Harry Potter or any other gentleman for that matter, perhaps she would _wait_.

 

I thought it was a very empowering thing for her to do, and I supported her completely. But her romantic life was simple; mine was anything but.

 

"Do you know where Parvati is?" Ron asked as he pulled out his newspaper out of his jacket pocket.

 

"She's giving testimony, she'll be done in about forty-five minutes."

 

He offered me his hand. 

 

"That's gives us enough time to grab a croissant."

 

"Where are you two going?" I asked as we crossed the street. 

 

"She wanted to see a Quidditch match from the press box, so I'm taking her today."

 

He had never asked me if I wanted to go.

 

"Do you want to go?"

 

Well so much for that little bit of romantic ammunition.

 

"No, not particularly."

 

He held the café door open for me. "I know you too well. You would prefer to do at least two dozen other things than watch a Quidditch match."

 

"Ha!" I sat down at a corner table. "Not two dozen. Maybe six -"

 

"-teen."

 

"Yeah that sounds about right."

 

~o~

 

**Luna & the Balloon**

(Summer)

 

The next time I thought about Ron was later that night, but what transpired then is none of your business. The next time I talked about him was a few weeks later. Actually, now that I think about it, it may have been a month or two later. 

 

We were in the middle of our short and glorious summer and I was up in a hot air balloon. Unfortunately, I had left my stomach back on the ground.

 

"Seriously, Luna," I said as I slowly pulled myself upright. "What are we doing in this balloon?"

 

"I think you will find the term is reconnaissance, Hermione." Luna was scribbling on her parchment pad and staring out of a telescope that she had precariously balanced on the railing of the basket.

 

My stomach did flips and I wish I had paid more attention to that pamphlet about motion sickness. 

 

"Do you need me to help you? Or are you going to be sick on me?"

 

"Luna. Please. Help me." I really didn't want to be sick again.

 

A couple of enchantments later I was feeling much better. At least now I could behave like the team leader that I was.

 

"Okay, Luna can you please give me an adequate explanation?  Why we are in a hot air balloon, of all possible things?"

 

Luna didn't turn around from the telescope. "The hot air balloon is a recognised form of travel. It's in the guidebooks."

 

Now I had read every version of the Auror guidebook since they revised the format in 1954. I had never seen any mention of hot air balloons being used for reconnaissance purposes. Well there was that one time back in 1965 when....

 

"Which guidebook did you see it in?"

 

Luna skirted the question. "It's in the manuals. From the 50's."

 

"The fifties....I don't..."

 

"The 1850's."

 

The anti-nausea enchantment wore off suddenly and I soon found myself leaning over the edge of the basket. Oh my! Was that a farmer below? Had I just vomited on him? I couldn't tell. I really hoped not.

 

"That is not the standard Auror uniform Hermione. As team leader you really should set a better example."

 

I steadied myself and wiped my lips with a tissue. "Luna, you know as well as I do that I'm currently working undercover and I'm only here because you need two people in a hot air balloon for sake of safety."

 

I stepped forward and peered through Luna's telescope. "I'm only dressed this way because this is how witch socialites dress. You can't expect me to wear Auror robes all day."

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luna fold her arms.

 

"So is that why you decided not to wear any underwear today?"

 

"What!" I spun around so quickly that I darn near knocked over the telescope. 

 

"I find your lack of underwear quite disturbing, team leader. It's not a good example. No. Definitely, not a good example."

 

My face at that moment could have doubled for one of those large Italian tomatoes that my mother liked so much. 

 

"For your information Luna, I **am** wearing underwear, thank you very much. I am not that kind of girl."

 

Luna had gotten back to the telescope. "I will have to take your word for it, fearless leader, because I definitely was unable to see anything while you were being ill."

 

I tugged my skirt down as far as it would go. I was speechless; they didn't discuss this in any stage of Auror training. You can hardly pose as a wealthy witch who has criminal connections in the Muggle world and wear sensible, thoughtful, supportive undergarments at the same time. You had to make some compromises for the sake of the job. 

 

"Right, let's discuss the purpose of this little jaunt into the heavens. Who exactly are we spying on?"

 

"Spying is a term that has negative connotations, Hermione. The Ministry do not spy; we simply observe."

 

"That's what I meant."

 

"That sort of line could get your testimony thrown out of court."

 

_Any more of this could get you thrown out of this balloon._

 

The sun was setting when we decided to head back home.

 

"I do believe that I know the proper spells to help manoeuvre the balloon."

 

"I respectfully disagree," said Luna quickly.

 

I held my hands up. "Excuse me?"

 

"I think you have been the victim of a horrible prank, fearless leader."

 

I narrowed my eyes. I had suspected something was up at the office today.

 

"Explain, Lovegood. And it better be good."

 

"Hermione, some of my fellow team mates have taken it upon themselves to exchange what you thought were the direction spells for this balloon with spells for something completely different."

 

"Oh, really? And what exactly would these spells do?" I held up the parchment that they were written on.

 

Luna leant forward and whispered something in my ear.

 

My initial reaction was to grab hold of my head and then the true horror of her words became clear.

 

_All my hair?_

 

Luna had a deadpan expression as ever. "If you ask me, I think you would look nice as a blond."

 

Well it hadn't happened. Might as well try to find the humour in it. 

 

"Maybe it would help Ron make a decision about our relationship if I was a blond."

 

Luna chanted the proper spells and the balloon started descending. 

 

"I don't know, Hermione. He's in love with his job."

 

"I feel the same way about my work."

 

"I know."

 

As we passed through the Yorkshire countryside, I wondered why exactly we were here. There was an Auror division for this part of the country anyways. As our reputation as being the first and only all female Auror team spread to this part of the country? Hmm....

 

"Perhaps you should take some time off, boss."

 

"Why's that, Luna?"

 

Luna was packing away the telescope. "Visit your friends and family. You've been spending too much time at work."

 

I sighed. "I know. But I'm undercover most of the time, Luna. I can't really go back until the case wraps up. And I don't know when that will be."

 

"That isn't fair for Ron."

 

That comment pricked me.

 

"Neither is it fair for him to be always travelling around from one city to another. Always fraternizing and partying with all those professional Quidditch players."

 

"Do you suspect him of being unfaithful?"

 

A blue bird flew by my head. "Of course not. But he's always covering some game or the other and he would be never home when I got home."

 

"What I need to ask you, Hermione, is this --"

 

"What is it Luna?"

 

"When you are at home, are you really _there_? I mean all there? Or just there physically?"

 

_Good point Luna. Good question._

 

After we touched down and successfully enchanted the hot air balloon to disappear from Muggle eyes, we started walking back toward the discreet Ministry office up the road.

 

"So who was the ringleader behind the plot to change my hair colour?"

 

"I'm sworn to secrecy."

 

I nodded knowingly. _Parvati! That's who!_

 

"Let's see how she likes a taste of her own medicine. Just wait till her hubby comes home for a night of intimacy and finds out her hair is now flaming red."

 

Luna nodded slowly while adjusting her wand behind her ear. 

 

"He always did have a crush on Miss Weasley."

 

I guffawed and grinned mischievously. 

 

"You are not someone to mess with, fearless leader. Not someone to mess with at all."

 

~o~

 

**My Family**

 

It is a well known fact that my parents are both dentists, so it would be misleading for me to claim that my childhood was anything but very comfortable. I can't honestly say that I wanted for anything, and for that I am very thankful for the years of hard work and sacrifice that my parents made. 

 

We Grangers do not come from wealthy stock, but instead from the back streets of the nation's second largest city. The first Grangers, whose identities have been lost to history, came to what today is modern Birmingham in the late 1830's. The railway between the capital and Birmingham was completed around then and no doubt my ancestors - just like thousands of other people in their time - came looking for work and a better future. My great-grandfather, Stewart Granger, is the earliest relative that I have records and a real history of. He was born on the 13th of August. This day is memorable because many important Granger eventswould take place on this day. 

 

It was on his third birthday that his family was first able to move out of a boarding house and into their own flat. They didn't own it in the way that my parents own their house. It just meant for the first time since they became a family they did not have to live with another family inside the same four walls. Stewart didn't go to school for very long because he was soon needed at home to take care of his sickly little sister Jean. 

 

Years later Jean eventually succumbed to typhoid and Stewart found himself a few days short of his twelfth birthday. Months later he started working at the famous Birmingham Canals. I once told Ron and Harry that the great Muggle sailor Ferdinand Magellan sailed through the same canals that a Granger once worked on. Granted, Magellan did it ages earlier, but still you would think that they would have found that piece of information a little bit interesting.

 

On his sixteenth birthday Stewart Granger enlisted in the Royal Army and was promptly shipped to the other side of the world -- South Africa, to be specific. The Boer War, which was one of the more horrible turn-of-the-century Muggle conflicts, had just started and young Mr. Granger wanted to do his part for Queen and Country. 

 

What followed was quite a remarkable career in the armed forces. It was remarkable given his lack of formal education and his working class background. Following the Boer War he was posted to India where he worked and lived for ten years.

 

It was during his years in colonial India that he met my great-grandmother. She was a dandy young lady with the quite impressive name of Elodie Rose Beatrice Flowers. I mean how's that for a moniker? Just how did rough and tumble Stewart Granger charm such a lady is something I have always wanted to know. I remember my own Granny telling me that Miss Flowers is the person who brought and instilled a certain level of grace and charm into this family. I don't doubt it one bit. The pair got married and returned to Birmingham where Stewart got a good job at a bank and Elodie raised their two small children.

 

Unfortunately, the story takes a sad turn of events at this point. Stewart Granger enlisted into the army yet again at the onset of the First World War (consult your local Muggle history book for more information). My great-grandfather Stewart Granger died in a chemical gas attack on May 5th 1915 at the battle of Ypres. 

 

He left behind his wife Elodie and two young boys and a baby girl. Without a breadwinner in the family Elodie was forced out of the house and into the munitions industry that had blossomed in Birmingham. Life was very difficult and there were a few times when it looked like the family would be torn apart and the children sent to foster homes. Thankfully that did not come to pass; however, my grand uncle Peter did spend most of his youth living with family friends. 

 

The next decade saw the Granger's fortunes slip back to what they were before Stewart enlisted so many years ago. Elodie's beautiful fingers became scarred and the muscles in her right had gotten so tight from using the rivet gun and other tools that they formed a claw. My granny told me how embarrassed she was to show her children what had happened to them.  But despite all the hardship and lonely nights Elodie Granger kept her brood together and kept them a happy family.

 

Her second youngest son John Granger studied hard in school. Looking back, I'm sure he is who I get my interest in books from. He was supposedly a ferocious reader with an insatiable appetite. He also had a knack for mathematic which helped him get a clerk position at one of the big trading companies that operated on the banks of the canals. 

 

When the call came around again for young men to fight in yet another Muggle war, (please refer to the Second World War in your Muggle history books), John was torn. On one hand he wanted to carry on the brave tradition that his own father had started. On the other he had his own young bride to think about. Alas, his decision was made for him by the government who used conscription to get him into uniform.

 

It was a joyous moment indeed when my grandfather John Granger returned to the shores of this fair isle just fifteen months after he left. He had been dispatched for medical reasons. And for good reason tooo - he had lost half of his left leg. Fortunately for him, his brain was still in tip-top shape and he was back at work at his old position in no time, albeit at a lower wage than before; his employers believed unfairly that due to his disability he wasn't capable of working as well as he used to. (Oh, how that makes me angry!)

 

Did I forget to mention that it was on August 13th that when he returned to England? And that it was on August 13th when he was able to officially purchase his own house? No Granger had ever owned their own house before and this was a grand day for everyone involved. Eloidie Granger lived out the remainder of her years in the top room of the tiny row house. Every August 13th I like to lie outside and stare at the skies; I try to imagine how proud and happy my family was back then being able to finally have a place to call their own. It makes me tear up just writing about it.

 

John Granger and his wife Mary had a big brood of kids. Gosh, I guess he wasn't disabled in that regards was he? That's a joke I'm sure Ron would enjoy. Harry would laugh to, but he would be a bit more subtle about it. I mean he wouldn't be one to say something along the lines of, "Well I guess they didn't shoot off his co --" I'm not going to complete that sentence. 

 

They had four boys and two girls. My aunt Teresa died as a baby. My father always took me to see her grave as a child and I never really understood why, but now I know: baby girls have always been very precious in my family, dating back to little Jean Granger. Perhaps that is why my parents were so scared to let me leave the proverbial nest.

 

My father Philip was able to enrol in the prestigious University of Birmingham medical school. It is a nice coincidence that the motto of the university is _Per Ardua Ad Alta_ or _Through hard work great heights are achieved._ That should be the Granger family motto; in fact, now that I think about it, maybe I'll propose changing it at the next big family gathering. I mean, it will sure beat our current unofficial family motto that reads _Pass the chicken pies now!_

 

In his third year of dentistry studies, my father met a young woman who also hailed from the city of Birmingham. Her name was Denise Brook and she was a struggling student. My father likes to say that he took her under his wing and helped with her academics. However, that story falls apart once you hear about the time when Denise punched him in the face because she suspected that he was cheating off her test; she broke his nose and everything.  We lady Grangers have strong right hands -- just ask Mr. Draco Malfoy! 

 

Perhaps I jumped the gun there by calling Denise a Granger, but in true romantic style, a relationship whose high water mark was a punch in anatomy class soon grew and came to a climax when Philip Granger wed Denise Brook. 

 

The story ends here, which is good because I should get some rest; I have to get up early to help transport a witness to the capital to give testimony. Thanks to the Floo network, we'll be able to make the trip in seconds flat. But it does make me stop and wonder with amazement how my ancestors did it -- all that travelling on trains and ships, and with none of our modern day-luxuries. That being said, is there anything more romantic than being on the deck of a ship with the love of your life as you are sailing back home? Or risking your life and then returning home wounded and broken only to be healed by the love of the most important person in your life? Perhaps there are, but I don't want to think about them. 

 

When Ron used to ask me what motivated me in my studies and forced me to go to such extremes in the amount of work I did, I didn't tell him the truth. Well, not the full truth. I used to say something about not wanting to let my parents down and such; he would always shake his head and roll his eyes. But what I couldn't tell him was that my reasoning went further than that -- much further. All the way back to my Great-Grand-Aunt Jean Granger who never got the opportunity to live a happy life. I'm doing it for her and my Great-Grandmother Elodie who gave up a life of luxury and prosperity to marry a Granger. Finally, I work hard because my Grandmother Mary raised my father and passed down the work ethic that took my family from sleeping in tenements and living hand to mouth to driving German cars and vacationing in France. 

 

Strange, isn't it? If you visited my childhood home in the outskirts of London, you would never guess that my family are a bunch of _Brummies_ that _done good_. You will be forgiven if you only see the modern-day trappings of luxury and conclude that my family comes from a noble and wealthy line. It was on August 13th when my parents opened their own practice and achieved that long-time Granger dream of working for themselves. 

 

I'm an Auror now. I work very hard to be the best Auror I can be; I can't help but try. After all those who have gone before me, I have a lot to live up to. 

 

~o~

 

**Spanish Bombs**

(Autumn)

 

I picked up the garment bag with some trepidation and looked back at the clock on my desk. I really should get ready but I don't want to. I rather stay here and pour over my files and do some work. Then I hear music from outside, and that gives me reason to go out.

 

_"Spanish bombs, yo te quiero infinito_  
Yo te quiero, oh mi corazn  
Spanish bombs, yo te quiero infinito  
Yo te quiero, oh mi corazn"

 

I walked over and pressed stop on the music player.

 

"Just because it's after hours doesn't mean we stop following the rules," I explain to a new member of my team.

 

In return I got a sad look of resignation. 

 

"That being said," I started to walk towards the women's washroom, "if I'm not around to see or hear anything, I won't be able to report it." I turned and winked at my subordinate. "Will I?"

 

I hung up the garment bag and placed my pink makeup bag on the countertop. As I unzipped it I recalled the conversation I had with Ron this past Sunday.

 

"So it's a big deal, then?"

 

"Yes, a very big deal, I guess you can say."

 

We were talking over the phone, because Ron was in Dover and he didn't have a suitable fireplace in his hotel room. 

 

"I never asked you to attend anything before. Can't you make an exception this one time? Please."

 

Ron had sighed and I could just imagine him mumbling something silently to himself.

 

"I've been at this job for more than a year, and this is the first time I get to go somewhere good."

 

Ron had received an opportunity to cover a European Quidditch match in Barcelona. It was his first _European Night_ , something which was supposedly very important to sport journalists in this country, Muggle or Wizard.

 

"I'll make it up to you, Hermione. I promise."

 

Unfortunately for me, Ron's big trip to Spain was scheduled for the same Wednesday when I had to attend the _Autumn Auror Ball._ As team leader of the only female Auror division in the country, I had to make an appearance. I also probably needed a date. But if I couldn't go with the only boy I ever wanted to be with then what was the point, really? 

 

The point was, I reminded myself as I applied my eyeliner, I accepted that situations like this might arise when I decided to take this job. At that point I knew that there would be many times that Ron and I could not be together for an evening. We both understood what me moving away to Birmingham meant to our relationship. When Ron took his job at the paper we both accepted what that meant as well. Now was not the time to start to go back and bemoan the past.

 

After applying my make-up I quickly got dressed and headed out. Ron said he would make it up to me, and of course I believed him. But that didn't make me feel any less nervous about facing the Auror brass on my own. 

 

_"Whoa!"_

 

_"Is that really you Hermione?"_

 

_"Ron Weasley must be here!"_

 

The friendly catcalls from my junior staff made me blush as I walked past them and out of the office. 

 

That evening I told everyone the truth when they asked why I was alone. I got a few knowing nods from the men while the women gave me sympathetic looks. It was awkward not having someone to talk to during those moments when the conversation dried up and I found myself standing there in a crowd, a flute of something or the other in my hand and cracker crumbs all over my dress.

 

_Geeze Ron, I hope the game is as good as you wanted it to be. At least one of us is having a pleasant evening_.

 

I saw the clock strike nine and I excused myself from the kind gentleman who was talking to me; I really didn't want to discuss the merits of juvenile detention any longer. Using those sharp Granger elbows discretely, I cut a neat path through the crowd and made my to the ladies room. 

 

I didn't really need to _go_ , I just wanted to be alone for a moment; I needed to clear my mind and try to make sense of all the stuff that was going through my head.

 

_I should be with Ron right now._

 

Yes, yes I should have been. I should have been there with him on his big day, sharing the moment, watching as the joy spread across his face and stayed there for all three or so hours of the match.  Should have been there to hear the happiness in his voice and watch him bounce up and down on the balls of his feet when as he got really excited about something.

 

Not for the first time, I felt horrible for pursuing this job the way I did. Why did I do it? I could have easily stayed with Ron in London and been an Auror there, live with him like we had planned, maybe even gotten married by now. 

 

_Ugh!_

 

I heard footsteps coming, so I turned quickly to the sink and turned on the tap. No point looking like a _scaredy cat_ in front of a colleague. I was bent over washing my hands when someone smacked me very hard in the lower back.

 

It was Parvati. And she had obviously aimed a bit too high.

 

"Ouch!" I cried. "Why did you hit me?"

 

Her eyes were glassy and she looked the same way she did that year on Halloween when she and Lavender smuggled that wine bottle up into the dorm. 

 

"That skirt makes it look so nice. I just had to touch." 

 

And then before I could reply she was horribly sick on the floor. 

 

"Nice P. Nice." I shook my head as my second in command slumped down onto the floor and leaned against the wall. 

 

What would our major say about this little scene? Well he wouldn't find out about this if I could help it. 

 

I pulled my wand out of my handbag and cast a locking spell on the door - a really good one, at that. Then I Scourgified the vomit off the floor and cast a charm that freshened the air in my room. 

 

"I'm sorry boss," Parvati mumbled softly as I cleaned her dress.

 

"I'm just glad you did it in here rather than outside. What were you thinking drinking so much?"

 

This was Parvati's first ever ball like this, and apparently she had really hit the open bar hard .

 

"I don't know," she started to fidget.

 

"No, be still.  I can't clean your dress if you keep moving about."

 

Parvati pushed my hands out of the way and started crawling towards a stall.

 

"I'm going to be sick again, Hermione. Help me!"

 

I tucked my wand under my arm and grinned to myself.

 

Here I was wondering if the life I led was worth it, if I had made the right decision to become an Auror and move to Birmingham. Then you get a moment like this. _P_ only signed up because she had heard what I was doing. She too had been out there in the years following the war having no idea of what to do with her life. I told her that I was enlisting as an Auror and that perhaps she should think about it as well. She didn't seem very thrilled about the idea.

  
  


I held the stall door open for her as she crawled in.

 

"I will never drink alcohol, ever again."

 

"Right."

 

I'll be honest and admit that I didn't particularly like her that much in school. But then again, she probably didn't think much of me either. And for good reason to; I was a bit of a worrywart in terms of everything that went on in our dorm room. And, well, she was a bit too much of a _girly girl_ for me. 

 

But now, as I watched her get sick into the toilet bowl, I knew that this was how things were meant to be. Well, not this particular scene actually -- I don't want you to think I had some perverse fantasies of watching her vomit. What I meant to say is that Parvati is a damn good Auror and I think she wouldn't have had the guts to find that out about herself if I hadn't done it first.

 

My lock on the door was breached moments later as I helped my second in command to her feet again. From the sounds of it, there seemed to be two more people now in the bathroom. We were about to step out of the stall when we heard a spell being cast.

 

The same locking spell that I had used. Hmm...the same spell I had taught to all my staff.

 

It didn't take too long for either of us to figure out who it was that cast the spell. The moans and whispered words gave it away too quickly.

 

I turned to my slightly dizzy friend and we both mouthed the same word simultaneously.

 

"Luna."

 

Things were getting hot and heavy out there and I thought it was best if we left.

 

"You fit to Apparate?" 

 

Parvati nodded.

 

An unusually loud cry of female pleasure echoed through the room.

 

"Let's go. You'll be fine. Let's go back to your place."

 

"Okay. But let's take a look first."

 

"No!" I mouthed back. I could never do that. Not to a friend like Luna.  
  


"Come on." Parvati grinned back.

 

We were in the last stall at the end. Thankfully neither of the amorous lovers had any idea we were here yet. 

 

"Don't you want to know who he is?"

 

I couldn't believe she just asked me that. This was exactly the sort of thing that...that... Oh hell, I want to know too. 

 

Luna has always been the enigmatic one of the group. The mysterious one who always that gleam in her eye. Just who it was that stoked her fires was a topic of office gossip a few times. Everyone had an opinion and a guess. Now, I had the opportunity to answer the question once and for all

 

There was scampering of feet and some fumbled talking. For a second I figured it was over. But then the sounds of snogging resumed. 

 

"Go Luna!" Parvati whispered to me.

 

"I know."

 

"I love you." We heard a male voice say.

 

"I love you too." Luna replied.

 

All of a sudden our urge to catch a glimpse of Luna's lover left us and we felt more than a tad voyeuristic for being there.

 

"Let's get out of here."

 

I agreed. And just when Luna started extolling the virtues of her lover we Apparated out of the room. 

 

~o~

 

**A Lonely Job**

(Autumn)

Being an Auror isn't always about kicking down doors and lighting up Christmas trees at orphanages. Sometimes, Aurors have to do some really horrible things. And I don't mean cleaning up the women's bathroom after hours. No, I mean going up a flight of stairs, or a pathway, knocking on the door, and then telling the person who opens it that his or her loved one is never coming home again.

It's no fun. Sometimes, the ink isn't even dry yet on the report; or worse, the body hasn't been recovered -- but we still have to do it. People deserve to know the truth. I hate it. I really do.

The first time I did it, I vomited, very ungracefully, on the front step. The lady inside heard me and opened the door. And she saw me, standing there, with sick all over my shoes. Ironically enough, that was the easiest one I had to do. When she saw my badge she knew. Her son had lived a dangerous lifestyle and she had dreaded this moment, but she had expected it.

But, unlike going undercover, this task never gets any easier. I've never been ill again but I always feel my stomach doing a few cartwheels. My mouth goes dry, my whole body starts itching. I guess it's the body's way of trying to distract the mind.

When I speak to young women who are interested in joining the Aurors, I don't gloss over these aspects of the job. Being an Auror pays a lot, it's true, and the job has a lot of perks as well, but it's not all fun and excitement.

My uncle, who's a Muggle policeman, gave me some advice which I pass to them and my staff.

 "The truth always sets people free. Be their liberator."

~o~

 

**Knocked Down**

(Winter)

 

Any doubt that I had about Ron's feelings for me despite all our time apart evaporated on the day I got hurt. I was supervising a new recruit who had been selected by the upper brass as a girl with potential - a girl who, one day, could be part of my team. 

 

I hadn't been paying attention to my surroundings; I was thinking about signing overtime sheets when I should have been watching where I was going. We were out in the Muggle world and the girl was doing a tracking exercise. Blindly, without checking if it was safe, I stepped out in the street and had a nasty collision with a bicycle courier. 

 

As I lay there on the road with my shoulder blade broken and my legs both badly gashed, my first thought wasn't to press the discreet tab that every Auror keeps in their pocket that alerts HQ of an accident. No; instead I started to think about Ron's red hair. And how he bled for me all those years ago when we were in that cave and the Death Eaters were at the mouth and we seemed to be trapped. As the ambulance rushed me to the Muggle hospital I couldn't concentrate on what the EMS staff asked me, but instead I kept thinking of how he had kissed me then and how it had tasted real salty because of his bloody lips. 

 

By the time we reached the hospital I had started to cry. I hadn't thought of that day for so long. I had categorised my brain in such a way and had filed that horrible experience so deep inside that I never expected to think about it again. There was never another moment in my life where I had lost all hope. I had never felt so alone and miserable like I did in that cave. And it took one traffic accident to bring all those horrible memories rushing back.

 

Thanks to some quick thinking by my superiors I was quickly transferred out of the Muggle hospital and sent to St. Mungo's in order to recover.  The healers matched the diagnosis of the Muggle doctors who said that I was very lucky not to be in worse condition. 

 

But you wouldn't have been able to guess how I was doing by looking at me. I was a wreck, dear reader, and I feel no embarrassment in admitting it. With a job like mine as a team leader, and as the focal point for so many other women, I knew I had learned to keep my feelings inside. I had learned to be strong. But once I started crying I just couldn't stop. No matter who tried to calm me down, I couldn't stop. 

 

I'm not sure who contacted Ron, but I'm glad he came. No one else would have been able to bring me back from the edge of the cliff that I felt I was on. I felt like I was about to fall off the edge into an abyss of darkness. I needed Ron to hold me once again just like he did that day. I needed him to tell me - lie, straight to my face, if it came to that - just needed him to say that everything was going to be okay.

 

I heard Ron before I saw him, of course. I'm pretty sure he knocked over half a dozen gurneys and carts on his way to my room. I can't say for sure because while I had stopped crying I was still shaking and talking to myself. A kind looking Medi-witch had tried to sedate me but I tore a strip off her and she scampered away looking for a superior. She needn't have bothered; the only help I needed was standing now at the doorway and he looked worse than I did.

 

"Hermione. Hermione, it's me."

 

It was like he had put a strong arm on my shoulder and pulled me back from the edge. 

 

No one dared say anything to us for the rest of the evening. Not one word of complaint was uttered when Ron climbed into the bed and held me in his arms. My co-workers stayed respectfully outside and for that I thank them.

 

That evening I told Ron everything. All my hopes and disappointments. How I missed him so much some nights and I how I was so proud of his career and how happy I was for him because he was able to do something he loved. 

 

Ron didn't speak much but just brushed my hair idly with his hand and listened to me. 

 

I spoke about working with a team of all women and what that means in the big scheme of things - how no one really thought a bunch of women, working together without men, could be successful. I told him about Parvati and Luna and how they have gone from girls with brains but no self confidence to some of the best Aurors in the country.

 

Sometime later, my major came in and in the kindest possible way told Ron to beat it so I could get some rest. Ron looked ornery for a moment but I told him that he really should go and that I didn't mind being alone for the evening.

 

"Thanks for coming, Ron, so soon."

 

Ron sniffed. "I'm just glad you're alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

"No you won't," my major retorted.

 

Ron spun around angrily, ready to snap, only to see my major with his mouth open in a frozen laugh.

 

"Got ya! Go on Ron get out of here." 

 

After Ron left, my major sat down on the edge of my bed, and in that husky voice of his, asked me what had happened to me that day.

 

"I got hit by a bicycle. I didn't look..."

 

"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about what happened afterwards."

 

_Shit._

 

"I'm sorry, Major."

 

"You don't have to be sorry. And you don't have to explain what happened. I just want to know -  if you are okay?"

 

At that point I didn't know what to say. He was used to me being the brave one. After all, I had a very impressive past in that regards didn't I? I took a deep breath and thought for a few moments before I answered. My major examined his fingers in the mean time.

 

"Major, I don't know why I reacted the way I did, but I can assure you that what happened today will not happen again."

 

"Don't make promises, Hermione. You're a good Auror - I know that. Do you want some time off?"

 

_Time off?_ Shoot, if I stopped then, I may never be able to come back to the job. I may never want to leave Ron's side.

 

"Just until my arm gets better. But after that..."

 

He stood up. 

 

"Good. I'll have Parvati run things in your absence. Get better, Hermione."

 

"Thanks, Boss." 

 

~o~

**The Smokey Stack**

(Sprint)

 

The following year, I was in the middle of the biggest case of my life when Ron dropped by my flat unannounced. Normally that would be reason enough for me to drop everything and eat breakfast with him; alas, I didn't have the time right then.

 

So instead of Flooing to work I decided to take the twenty minutes and walk. This way, Ron could talk to me as we went.

 

"What's the rush, Hermione?"

 

"Haven't you heard?" I paused to lock the door behind me, but it was also a pause of disbelief. "You didn't hear about what happened at the Smokey Stack _?_

 

Ron looked at me funny.

 

"Should I have?"

 

"Ron, it's been in every paper, including _your_ paper. You know, the one you write for?"

 

Ron cringed and blushed.

 

"I'm sorry, Hermione. Can you tell me what happened?"

 

I smiled in disbelief as we rode the lift down.

 

"Four days ago, there was a homicide at the Smokey Stack."

 

"What's the Smokey Stack?" asked Ron as he took hold of my gloved hand. 

 

"The Smokey Stack is a wizard shop of sorts. It's also a social club for Birmingham magical folk. Aren't your hands cold?"

 

"No," he replied with a smile. "So what exactly happened at this place?"

 

"Somebody came into the place looking to rob it and ended up killing an innocent bystander."

 

"Shit," Ron's face turned pale. "That's horrible."

 

"Nasty, nasty thing to happen Ron. Mostly elderly men and women frequent the pub. It practically turned my stomach when I heard about it."

 

We stopped as the lights were changing at the intersection.

 

"Don't you ever get tired of this stuff, Hermione?"

 

"What stuff?"

 

"This. The crimes, the assaults, robberies, and now murder."

 

I shook my head instinctively. It was my gut reaction to anyone who said anything that sounded like they didn't think I should be an Auror. 

 

"I want to make a difference, Ron. I want to help people. You know that's why I joined."

 

Ron didn't reply. He just looked ahead as we walked.

 

"I love you, Hermione," he said after a few more moments.

 

This caught me off guard. I was thinking about work, not him. I stopped.

 

"I'm sorry, Ron," I said as I turned towards him. "I'm sorry. I haven't even asked you why you came to see me today."

 

Ron gave me one of those lopsided grins and rubbed the scar under his left eye. 

 

"I was wondering when you would ask." Ron gave a playful mope.

 

"Ron!"

 

"Alright, well...  I've decided to change jobs."  
  
"What?"

 

"I've been at the paper for a while now, but there is an opportunity for a permanent job at the Quidditch League Office, so I'm going to apply."

 

"But that means you won't get to travel anymore."

 

"Not as much, granted. And when I do, it will only be for a day or so."

 

"What are you telling me, Ron?" I eyed him suspiciously. "Are you settling down?"

 

"My days of being on the road, living out of a suitcase in sleazy motels are over."

 

"We can still go to sleazy motels," I said as I licked my slightly chapped lips.

 

"The ones with the vibrating beds?"

 

A look of horror flashed across my face.

 

"Uh...what did you say?"

 

Ron guffawed. "Some things haven't changed Hermione."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You're still the same person I fell in love with years ago. Nothing has changed."

 

I had a feeling something big was going to happen.

 

"Hermione I'm willing to give everything up to be with you. Not just on weekends or holidays but every morning and night. Do you understand what I mean?"

 

Ron took both my hands in his. 

 

"I don't think I've ever told you how proud I am of you - I mean, really told you," he continued as I valiantly tried to control my emotions.

 

"I'm not sure where this is going..."

 

"I want to live with you, Hermione. I want to see you when you wake up in the morning and when you close your eyes at night. I want to eat breakfast and dinner with you. I want..."

 

"Ron, please..." I didn't want to hear this again. It would just break my heart again if we ended and went our separate ways.

 

"Hermione, I'm willing to give it all up. I'll move here, I'll commute everyday; I don't care! Just give me a chance. Give _us_ a chance."

 

 Ron let go my hands and I folded my arms. I looked into his eyes and he stared deep into mine. 

 

~o~

 

That afternoon, I was sitting at my desk when Parvati brought me a cup of tea and sat down in front of me. 

 

I could tell her mind was preoccupied with the case. She looked haggard, like she hadn't slept properly in days.

 

"Ron wants to move here and live with me."

 

Parvati has this great skill to jump right into a conversation without a moment's hesitation.

 

"And you buggered it up by acting like you want to be alone?" She snapped back.

 

"No, I didn't bugger anything up." 

 

"Then what? When's he moving in?"

 

"Ugh," I propped my arms up on the table. "Why am I scared, Parvati? Why does the one man who makes me feel so safe scare me so much?"

 

"Because, fearless leader, with Ron you are no longer in charge."

 

"Ron's not like that."

 

"Damn girl, can't you read between the lines?"

 

I was puzzled. This was not good. 

 

"Let me recap your glorious little life for you, Hermione; see if you can keep up."

 

I huffed and leaned back defensively in my chair.

 

"You left your family and home and went to Hogwarts. That was mostly your choice. You decided you were going to be a witch and you made it happen."

 

I nodded.

 

"Then you became friends with Harry and you were at his side throughout everything. That was a choice you made, and throughout all those years you were always in control of your destiny."

 

I shook my head. No, it wasn't that easy. But she didn't stop.

 

"Then you became an Auror. You remembered all the people who said that you were suited to be a librarian or a clerk or something boring or quiet, and you took all those comments and you decided you were going to do something bigger with your life, that you were going to give something back to the world that took you in. So you became an Auror and you were the top girl in your class at the Academy. You paid your dues and when the call came to head up an all-female team you jumped at it. And you forced your way into that position. You took control of your career, Hermione, and you made everything that has happened here possible.

 

"But after it all, there is one thing you can't control. One thing that you can't say you are in charge of. And that's your love for Ron."

 

" _P,_ why have I pushed him away?"

 

"Tons of us have opinions on the matter. I like to tell the younger girls that you enjoy your time with him more than anything else, and if you had your way you would never leave his side. However, the time you spend here or on the job you enjoy _almost_ as much, and you're the sort of girl who needs to do something with all her heart. So that's why right now you are in sort of limbo. You have to decide where your heart is."

 

"My heart is big enough for Ron."

 

Parvati leaned forward and narrowed those beautiful dark brown eyes of hers.

 

"Your heart is bigger than the sky above us or the earth below."

 

I felt my eyes watering.

 

"This morning, he said he was proud of me. Proud of the work that I do." I chuckled to myself. "Nice moments like that where I can be romantic and thoughtful to him never show up for me."

 

"If you were looking for the opportune moment, that was it."

 

I looked at my second in command and our eyes clicked, just like they had on many cases before. 

 

"If the major asks where I am, tell him something - I know, tell him I'm out pressing the flesh with the canal workers trying to get some leads."

 

"You sure you want me to say that? He's a bit thick. He might think you're going to get laid."

 

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to talk to Ron, and you know what?"

 

"What?"

 

"I _am_ going to get laid. Maybe two, or even three times."

 

I left an open-jawed Parvati sitting there as I rushed out of the office.

 

I bounded down the stairs outside the building and I saw Ron standing near the newspaper box. 

 

"I've been waiting for you, Hermione."

 

"You don't have to wait anymore, Ron. No more."

 

He took my hand and we walked off back to our flat. 

 

**The End**

 

A.N: Thank you to Audrey aka Auds for editing this tale. Thank You for reading. Please review.


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